The List Pt. 01

"Jesus, Jude." This was weird, especially for her.

"It was your idea."

"I was kidding and you know it." I pretended to lick at the panties as they passed by just to piss her off. "You're driving me fucking nuts these days," I kissed her arm, the nearest part I could get at. "I'm fucking you every hour in my head — at one stage last night you were licking Tanya's nipple while your nipple was buried in her pubic hair, I mean, how's my brain supposed to process that?"

"Do you want me to do more of that ... with other women — I'd only do it if you were into it."

"With who?" I couldn't imagine anyone else we knew who would be up for it, but then, I wouldn't have imagined Tanya, either, or Judy, particularly.

"Never mind who. Would you?"

"Yes, if you wanted to, no if you were just doing it for me."

She grinned and kissed me. "Good answer. I'll test some waters." Then she changed the subject. "They don't count, you know. Stealing these was too easy and anyway, I did it." She dangled them over my nose again so I didn't see the little bag she had brought up with her other hand. She shook it. "We're playing tonight, dude." She dropped the panties on my face reached into the bag and came out with something. "Know what this is?" I had to brush the panties away to see; it looked kind of like a soother. She didn't wait for my answer. "A butt plug. It's anal night, bucko, I can't think of a better place to get bum fucked then in my sister's house." She grinned. "Especially after you and Tanya going on about what a great ass I have." She rubbed the panties into my face and grinned mischievously.

"You do have a great ass."

"Drink that, play with these," she flicked at the can and at the panties, "don't get them dirty, I'm going to shower and pluck up my courage. Sure hope I like it. I love the finger and I'd love to love the idea of you banging my ass." She giggled and was gone.

How can a woman change so much in just a matter of days? Ya, the prohibition against kids had a lot to do with it but it must have always been in her, a yearning sexuality wanting to come out. Why hadn't it until now?

Because I had never bothered to find it in her. I had to admit it. I should have stuck my hand down her pants way back when; I could have, I had the authority, I had the implicit, although ill-defined, permission; I just didn't; I pretended I cared about her, my best friend, but I knew I didn't then; I knew then that the only reason I was letting her hang around was because she made my life easier, a whole lot easier.

And now this, she was in the shower scrubbing up so I could violate her in the most unspeakable way ... and I had an erection just thinking about it.

It was her goodness and persistence that has held us together all these years, it certainly hasn't been anything I've done. And it's her yearnings and audacity that is making our lives so exciting now ... and our partnership so much stronger. She talks as if I'm making a mad dash for my sexual boundaries but that isn't true, I've been a compliant passenger in this, just as I've been a compliant passenger, a hanger-on in our relationship since the beginning, since she helped me do all my chores, helped me study, helped me with the demands from my parents, helped me in a millions ways to adjust to the demands of transitioning from a child to an adult. In many respects, I am her creation which, I rationalize, explains why I am now brushing her sister's panties over my stiff cock while pulling on a beer and waiting to bury my prick into her spectacular ass.

But I was a tiny bit troubled. This new permissiveness had almost insidiously gripped me; sexual desire had become an inner demon; my morality has lost whatever compass it had. Maybe it was just the way I was feeling these days, but I doubted it. For the first time in my life I was sexually alive, and if the Lord wasn't going to let me have children, surely he was kind enough to get out of the way and let me find some alternative form of fulfillment.

She was wearing the nightie I asked her to get when she phoned this morning. It was the same kind as the one she wore a few days ago and Tanya wore last night, only it was more sheer and with a lower neckline. I could see a hint of her bush and the deeper colour of her nipples as she walked towards me. She was grinning, slinking, teasing, when she got close I reached out for her hand and when she gave it to me I pulled her into my arms.

Love can come in many forms, I guessed, but this had to be the greatest: love for the mind, the body, the shared experiences, the commitment, the daring, the devotion, the future — love for the duration: we would be going through a lot in the rest of our lives together but there was going to be an intimacy in that journey that would be transcendent: we were in this as a couple, just as we had always been, but now we were in it with fire in our bellies: our challenge would be to exceed our grasp; we were on a rocket ride and I had no doubt who would be up front with the controls.

"We don't have to do this, Jude, some things can be better talked about than done."

"Just go slow. I'd love this to work for both of us." She was clearly a little nervous; she sat up and put the little bag she had brought on the night table and when she did it gave me the chance to push her face down on the bed and, thanks to all the pent up anticipation, I was on her, kissing her ass, pulling at her cheeks. She didn't put up a struggle.

When I let a great gob of drool drop into her ass I could hear her giggle and feel her almost melt into the mattress, letting her body go limp, surrendering to whatever was to come. I made it as gentle as possible. My mouth was a bit aggressive, kissing and sucking all around her left cheek but my finger inching in, circling her anus, gently searching for optimum sensations. "Do you really want this, Jude?"

"I wonder how many couples do this, do you know the statistics?"

I did, she obviously knew I would. "I looked it up. About 30% of men and slightly less of women claim they have tried it, it varies with different age groups, and less than 10% do it regularly, whatever regularly means."

"Not promising. Does it hurt?"

"Not if we use a lot of lube and go slowly. It's suppose to be great foreplay, I assume before the penetration."

"Ya, they got that right," she snickered. She moaned encouragingly when I finally touched her anus and pressed my spit into her and she slowly started fucking the mattress; I took hold of her hand and brought it down under her, pushing her fingers into her hair. She snickers again, "Thanks."

She slowly fingered herself while I sucked and licked her ass and lightly prodded her until all the sensations came together and I climbed over her and dragged my tongue down the full length of her crack. She began to purr; it got to me, her daring, her audacity, and her amazing cheeks and that she wanted me pulling them apart, wanted my tongue in there. But what got to me most was her bliss: her purrs, her moans, her slowly pleasuring herself, she lost herself in it as I lost myself, dragging my soaking tongue all around her bud then stabbing at it, sucking on it, kissing it. I went at this for what seemed a long time, but I knew I had to be slow. "How's it feeling, Jude?" I knew the answer.

"God, between my fingers and your tongue I am close to passing out ... I'll want this before sleep, every night."

I chuckled. "But will you want what's coming next?"

"Am I hairy back there, I mean really hairy?"

"It's nice — just the right amount. I love your hair."

"Take a picture of me when we get home, OK? I want to see what I look like." She squirmed. "I hope it hurts a bit; it's the only sensation I haven't felt ... what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking about how much I love you, how into your body I am and how ... privileged I am that you will let me do this."

"Privileged?" she chuckled.

"I know, but that's honestly the way I'm feeling." I reached out and got the lube, wrestled awkwardly with the top then squeezed some onto her anus.

"It begins?" she said, with a little trepidation in her voice.

"You tell me to stop, I stop, I've already had a great time down there." I lay down beside her and made myself comfortable and when I did she turned and tried to take me in her mouth. "No way, Jude, I wouldn't last a minute."

"I love the idea of you fucking my ass, Mike ... I've been planning this since it came up."

"To do it here, at Brighton's? Sick."

"Totally turns me on ... I want this, I totally want this ... ... hurt me, Mike ... treat me like your little slut ... please."

"Jude ..."

"Please."

I got off the bed, pulled her down and got down on my knees on the floor. I had thought I'd go ultra slow but when I put my finger onto the gel I pressed tentatively onto her anus only once then because I didn't know what I was doing I drove my finger down, hard, as far as it would go. She let out a loud yelp but within seconds her yelp turned to moans and she was pushing her ass back at me, pushing hard at my finger so I pushed harder, pushed her down, corkscrewed my finger deeper into her. "It's mine now, Jude," I half-joked, "you can't tease me with it anymore, if you do I'll take it." I edged a second finger near and pressed it in slowly.

"Oooooooh, fuck, Mike, yes, yes, yes ...."

"Tell me what to do."

She rose up on her knees, "Deeper, harder." I did as she wanted, I pushed both fingers in deep, stretching her, I could imagine her pain, I could feel it. "Am I your slut, Mike? Tell me I'm your slut." Her voice was weak, it didn't even sound like her.

I cork-screwed my fingers, opening her further with each twist. "I love you, Jude."

"Talk dirty, Mike, this is dirty, treat me dirty, treat me like your slut, tell me I'm your slut, do me, Mike, hard, punish me."

There was something going on here that I didn't understand but I could feel her energy, feel her urgency. I had meant to put the butt plug in and play with that for awhile, see what it did to her, then I would put a condom on and ease into her, wanting her feed-back at every movement. I didn't want that now. "You came into my room at home, you always squeezed your ass into tight pants. What was I supposed to do? I wanted to rip those pants off you and fuck some sense into you but all you wanted me to do was work, be better, do more. I did. Now I want rewards. Tell me it's mine. Tell me I deserve it."

"Fuck it, Mike, please, hard, now, it's yours." She was up high on her knees now, her head on the bed, she seemed to be panting. I quickly got behind her. I was surprised to see how dilated her asshole was. I squeezed some gel onto my erection, aimed and drove it home, drove it so hard her shout was almost deafening.

I looked up expecting to see the bedroom door come crashing open but I didn't care. Her sounds were raw, primordial, urgent, insistent and they only got louder as I drove into her ... in and out, in an out, harder at every thrust, deeper into her so her cheeks slammed into my hips, slapping, loud. She was fingering furiously so she came very soon, trying to muffle her screams into the bedding. Not me, I took my time, imagining where I was, feeling the dominance, feeling the power, feeling her tight circular sphincter race up and down my prick like a tight cock ring and then the cum that had been building in me ever since I ejaculated on her thigh in the car shot deep inside her, deep into the core of the woman I owned.

When I pulled out I was intrigued to see the huge hole left in her rectum. "You're totally mine now, Jude. I fucking own you."

I don't know what I expected when I fell down beside her, totally fucked out, but it wasn't laughter. But that's what I got, peels of it, fits of it, it came out so loud and uncontrollable that she twisted herself into a near impossible pretzel and just laughed as her fingers dug into the sheets and her body shook almost spastically.

It pissed me off. "I meant it. I own you," it sounded totally wimpish the second time.

She tried to stop laughing and succeeded a little. "Oh, no, sure, you totally do. I just fucking loved that. You can bang my ass any time you want ... almost."

"I didn't wear a condom."

She looked at me quizzically. "What are you expecting, baby assholes?"

"Bacteria, infection."

She leaned up, turned and looked at me, gingerly picking my cock up for inspection. "Do you have sores?"

"No."

"Then no prob." She rolled off the bed and headed for the bathroom.

She was cuddling into me after, thoroughly, and, I thought, lovingly cleaning me up with a face clothe. "I know you don't know but speculate: which one of our friends have done that?" When we finished speculating, even debating a little she said, "I'm going to brag about that, I don't know to who, but I'm going to. I like that we do that. I feel so ... hip."

"We've done it once."

"Ya, but it's us now ... why, don't you think we will?"

"You've got a great ass."

"I just felt so deliciously dirty. Brighton's never done that, I'd bet on it."

I knew I didn't have to ask. "You're going to ask her, aren't you?"

"If she asks me about the racket, ya, I will ... that would be being invasive, so I will." She turned pensive for a moment. "Would you like to fuck her?"

"No."

"Why?"

"You mean other than the fact that she's your sister? She doesn't think she's sexy so I don't think it would be much fun."

"Sort of like me ... before I turned slutty?"

"A lot like that, ya."

"How loud was I?" she grinned.

"Loud enough."

"Do you think she's going to mention it?"

"Ya, for sure."

She cuddled into me and giggled. "I fucking love this, Mike. I feel like a new person, I feel like I've somehow come out."

She mentioned it right off.

"Ah, ya, it's the new me. Sorry. What can you do?"

"You can try to stifle it." Brighton was clearly pissed off, actually more indignant than pissed.

"Hard to do when you can't get enough of it."

"Next time, try."

Judy just came right out with it, I knew she would. "Have you ever had anal?"

This caught Brighton totally off guard. "No, of course not ..." then she realized it was an admission that might not serve her well with her sister, "at least not ..." she didn't finish.

But Judy wasn't about to leave it alone. "At least not ...?"

"That you have to know about."

"So you have?"

This was too childish for words. "Jesus, Jude, just leave it alone."

"I was just asking," she pouted, petulantly.

Their mother might have been scowling but the kids were excited to see us and with a small flock of their friends it was a fun day around the pool that ended, mercifully, immediately at 5 and I could sit back under the blazing sun and crack open my first beer.

I was feeling fabulous and Jude was feeling at least as good, probably better because she had a constant grin on her face and I knew why. Somewhere since we left our house yesterday we had turned a corner in our relationship, we had for the first time ever become partners, a couple, she felt it, I felt it and the closeness made us both a little giddy.

We all cleaned up, played with the kids, Allen cooked some chops and by 8:30 with the kids in bed we settled down to dinner on the patio. And for the first time in peace because just before they served the dinner I told Judy to tell Brighton that I thought she looked fabulous, the very way I'd like Judy to look if she had kids — she sure didn't want to say it but she did, I could tell by Brighton's response.

Brighton is vain, exceedingly vain so I knew it would work. The weight issue was over, the guilt could be hidden away, there would be peace on the patio.

And a question. "When are you going to have kids?" We hadn't talked about how we were going to handle this, so I stayed quiet and gave Judy the lead.

I think she would have lied or at least avoided the truth had she not been in such a good mood. She told them that we had been trying, fruitlessly, so she went to a doctor and discovered that the illness that kept her in bed for two weeks as a kid, had also made her barren.

They were both immediately saddened and sympathetic but Judy quickly reassured them that, "It is what it is and we were not going to let it get to us. Life is still great; we'll take a greater interest in your kids."

Brighton isn't as sharp as Judy so it was hard for her to hide her feelings. She was genuinely sorry for us, that was obvious, but she was a tad triumphant, too, as if she was the bigger winner in the high stakes game of life. If I saw this, Judy sure did, but she didn't bite on it, not even a little bit. She told them we hadn't done much planning and, in fact, hoped we would wait at least a year before we did, but that we expected some serious changes in the future, just what they would be we didn't know yet but we were now really excited about it and really excited about our plans to move downtown to a condo.

"Well, it looks good on you," Allen said.

"And it sounds good on you," Brighton said, without humour. "You were really going at it last night."

As Judy grinned, I said, sheepishly, "We've caught a second wind."

That tabled the subject and Brighton couldn't wait to pursue it. "What's with the clothes? You've never dressed that way before. And that bathing suit, if that's what you call it, I thought Timmy might've had an erection."

"I've become a freer spirit," Judy said simply, and accurately.

Brighton looked at me, she wanted more.

"We were ratcheted down too much. We've loosened up and we're trying to loosen up even more — we want to have more fun and we're going to."

We were both quiet on the ride home the next day, each with our own thoughts but they were about the same subject, us, now, our future, our barrenness. Finally, Judy asked. "Do you think of me differently now? You know, from before?"

"I think of you as my skanky little slut," I said, with a laugh.

She didn't think it was funny. "You know, I meant that, I want you to think of me that way ... sometimes, not all the time of course but sometimes, for sure."

"Sometimes I will, I just hope they're the same times that you want to be called that."

"You're laughing at me."

"You totally turn me on, Jude. I'd love to think of you as my slut some times."

"You make me dress like one," she pouted.

"We're arguing? After all we've been through this weekend, we're arguing?"

She grinned. "It was pretty hot, wasn't it?"

"You've got an unbelievable body on you, Jude ... and a totally dirty mind — that's a compliment."

"So taken."

There is a nice little campground on a lake part way back to the city; we had stayed there a couple of times as kids. I pulled into it without thinking, pulled up to the gate, paid for a night and drove into 28, just a few feet from the lake. I undid my seatbelt, pushed back my seat and reached out for her. Seconds later she was in my arms, awkwardly but she was there and she was trying to make herself comfortable.

I brought my hand up under her minuscule shirt, felt her breast through her bra and told her I wanted to go back to school; wanted to study, to do something worthwhile, to work for the betterment of the community; wanted to live like a bohemian and I wanted to opt out of consumerism — after I bought us new mountain bikes, and I wanted her to do it all with me ... and I was open to negotiations.

"Fine, fine, fine, but no to the consumerism bit. Cut back? Yes, but give it up? No, and you can't do it either."

"That was my dicker card. You're OK with the rest?"

"But we wait a year, OK, think it all through, but on principle, absolutely, yes, I would absolutely love to be a consumer-ish bohemian with you."

"Toe ring?"

She turned to try to look back at me to see if I was serious. "Fuck yes. I'll get one tomorrow."